What I desire
by Lettuce
Summary: Ten years after the war Severus Snape had been content with his life of Ministry servitude, but perhaps things were beginning to change.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Firstly, I make no money from this story and I thank JKR for the gift of her characters.

Secondly, this is my first foray in to published fan fiction, though I have numerous stories in various states of undress. Please go easy on me as I have no beta to tidy up my messes :)

SS

The man walked a little further on, making a distinct effort not to turn and steal a glance the object which had caught his attention. It had been quite sometime, he mused as he took several calculated steps around the corner, since he had set his eyes upon her radiant countenance.

Once out of sight he stopped and took a deep breath, sagging slightly against the wall as took a moment to collect his thoughts. How lovely she had looked just now, talking animatedly with her colleagues and friends. Was it too much to assume that they had been enraptured by her every word? Was he wrong to say that they must have thanked Merlin for the opportunity to spent those few minutes in her company? He closed his eyes, ran his hand down his face slowly and let his head drop in a moment of rationalisation: what a fool he had become to allow himself to think such insipid thoughts.

He visibly gathered himself and brushed the sleeves of his dress robes; as his fingers passed over the smooth fabric he was reminded of how much he loathed these occasions. Ministry functions, in his mind, only served those who enjoyed patting themselves on the back. Here he was, dressed in he his finely tailored dress robes, being talked at by various high ranking Ministry officials, desperate for their picture to be taken with him for the morning's _Prophet._ In Merlin's name, how had he sunk so low?

It was true to say that he wouldn't always have loathed these events; if he had been told at seventeen that the Minster for Educational Excellence would have sought out his opinion in a room full of his contemporaries, he would have swelled with pride. If he had known then that the editor of _L'alchemie_ would have spent the better part of the evening _begging_ him to write a guest editorial, he would have allowed him to ask once more before relenting. Times had changed; _he_ had changed.

His attention was momentarily caught by an approaching waiter with a tray of champagne flutes; the boy couldn't have been older than nineteen years old. He noticed the boy's nostrils flair and his pace falter slightly as their eyes met. For a moment he wondered if he had taught this boy, but remembering it had been a little over ten years since the end of the war, and thus his own tenure as a teaching professional, he knew it was impossible. He took one of the ornate flutes from the waiter's proffered tray and took a sip; it was a little sweet for his taste, but otherwise satisfactory. He glanced at the back of the retreating boy and admired they way that he was able to walk with a tray laden with full champagne flutes without spilling a drop – Charms were useful after all.

The man took another deep breath and a sip of his champagne; he resolved to return immediately to the reception foyer to mingle; perhaps he would seek out the familiar company of Minerva McGonagall, or another of his former colleagues.

"Severus Snape you sly fox, I didn't expect you to be here this evening!" came an excited cry from within the crowd.

He watched as the rather shapely form of Septima Vector appeared, flute of champagne in hand. Her long dark hair framed her face and gave her a rather elegant appearance.

"Septima, it is lovely to see you," he replied honestly. "How have you been these many years?"

She smiled warmly, "Severus, it must be five or six years since we have last spoken. You look well."

"It is kind of you to say Septima," he replied. "I dare say I have a few more grey hairs." He noticed how little she had changed in that time and wondered if he appeared as unchanged. "Are you still teaching?" he asked.

"Indeed I am still at Hogwarts, goodness only knows what I would do if I didn't teach," she replied. "What are you up to these days? You have been conspicuous in your absence at these functions."

He did he best to hide his discomfort. "I was asked to attend by the Minister; he has a delegation from Hungary here to discuss the importation of Horntails for research purposes and for reasons I cannot understand, he seems to think that _I_ can influence a favourable decision."

Septima smiled knowingly, "Severus, don't be so modest."

"If you are trying to imply that I am in some sort of position of influence these days, you are very much mistaken." He drank the remaining champagne in his glass in one quick mouthful, before continuing, "I merely hold an advisory position."

Septima looked back at him and appeared unconvinced at his argument. "Have you seen any of the others? I came with Polmona, but Sybil, Filius and Rolanda did say they would be here this evening."

"What an entertaining threesome that promises to be," Severus mused, "I didn't think Filius had it in him."

Septima laughed, "Don' be so rude," she scolded unconvincingly. "Minerva is also attending, but she did mention that they might arrive a little later than the others... the Headmistress' work is never done, so it seems."

"Quite," replied Severus knowingly. He looked around the room, hoping to spot Minerva in the crowd. "I was hoping to speak with her this evening, do you know what time she is expected?"

"I think she said she would arrive around half past nine. Is my company not good enough for you?" Septima chided lightly. "

"You know very well that isn't the case," he replied honestly. "I always considered we got on rather well, for the most part..."

The conversation took an awkward pause as they both appeared uncomfortable with a reminder of is own year as Headmaster. Septima had been particularly difficult during that year, but he rather admired her tenacity.

"Perhaps we got on so well due to our proclivity for discipline and a challenging homework schedule." Septima replied diplomatically.

"Homework and detentions," he nodded in agreement, "that must be it."

"Did you bring anyone with you this evening? I've heard you're a popular man these days," she teased, changing the subject.

Severus rolled his eyes. "Don't believe everything you read in the gossip columns, you should know better than that."

"You mean you haven't taken up with Claudia Collingbourne?" She gasped for dramatic effect before bursting into a high pitched giggle.

Severus would have rather not be reminded of Claudia Collingbourne and her desperate efforts to be seen with him at every opportunity. It had eventually transpired that she was a cousin of his departmental secretary, which is how she always seemed to know which functions he was attending. Needless to say he acquired a new secretary, one without ambitious relatives.

It wasn't that she was unattractive, he reflected, but he wasn't the sort of man who entertained publicity hungry witches in his bed – no matter how persistent they appeared. Eventually she had set her sights on Domitius Dacre, a Beater with the Appleby Arrows, much to his own relief.

"As you see, I am unencumbered Septima." he replied as he placed his champagne flute on a passing waiter's tray.

"There must be someone Severus, an eligible bachelor such as yourself mustn't be short of prospects."

He sighed. "Let us not saunter down that particular path and instead let us simply content ourselves in the knowledge that I find myself more satisfied with life than I could have expected under the circumstances," he replied evenly. "I find that I do not require the complication of a relationship."

He was lying to himself, but she didn't have to know his deepest secrets. She didn't didn't need to know how dangerously close he was to repeating his past mistakes. It was pure folly.

"You know what your problem is Severus?" asked Septima conversationally.

"Oh do please enlighten me," he replied sarcastically.

"You just haven't met the right witch. When you met the right one, you'll change your mind."

Severus raised a dismissive eyebrow at her wagging finger. "Anything you say Septima."

"Severus, you old rogue," called a familiar feminine voice with a distinctive Scottish burr.

He turned his had to see Minerva approaching ready to greet him warmly; before he had time to reply he was swallowed in her arms, in a heartfelt and honest embrace.

She gripped his arms tightly and took a step back to inspect him appraisingly. "You look very well Severus." she commented with a smile. "Are you well?"

"I am as well as can be expected Minerva, thank you." he replied, somewhat taken aback by her overly familiar manner.

"From anyone else I would be worried, but I think from you... that is as good as saying that all is well, is it not?" she asked.

"I suppose that it is, yes." Severus glanced at Septima who seemed most amused at their little exchange.

"I am going to get another drink," said Septima, extracting herself from the conversation. "It was wonderful to see you again Severus... and don't forget what I said," she added, tapping him on the shoulder as she left.

"Now that sounds interesting," Minerva probed curiously.

Severus scowled. "Don't even bother to enquire," he answered. "Tell me, how is Hogwarts fairing these days? I hear the Governors are very enthusiastic about your reforms of the selection of Prefects."

"Oh well, you know how difficult it can be to get changes through," replied Minerva. "I've spent the best part of the last four years trying make these reforms and have been completely ignored. Emilius Inglethorpe gets involved and suddenly everyone is nodding enthusiastically and waving the reforms through. A complete bureaucratic mess you understand."

Severus knew only too well the machinations of any Ministry controlled entity. It was a political game of who you knew and where they were going. Fortunately for Minerva, Inglethorpe's grandaughter played Quidditch with the Minster's niece.

"I am pleased to hear your efforts weren't for nought." He respected Minerva, her earnest efforts to offer her students the best education and preparation for their adulthood were to be admired.

"You couldn't be tempted back for a term or two?" Minerva asked wryly.

"My dear Minerva, Merlin himself couldn't tempt me back to Hogwarts." As he replied he noticed _her_, standing but ten feet behind his former colleague, engaged in conversation with a man who looked distinctly like a Seamus Finnegan. Who would have thought that he would ever think of Seamus Finnegan as a man? Momentarily, he wondered what Finnegan had done to be rewarded with her undivided attention, for she was most animated in their exchange.

Severus allowed himself a moment to set his gaze upon her and to drink in her features. It was so rare that he saw her that he suddenly felt compelled to memorise each and every feature. How the ringlets of her hair framed her face; how her eyes came alive when she smiled; how her unblemished skin glowed against the silky black of her dress robes. He stilled his breathing for a moment lest he disturb the scene before him in some way.

"Severus, are you even listening to me?"

He regathered his thoughts at the sound of his name. "I am sorry Minerva, what where you saying?"

Minerva spun around to see what , or who, had commanded his attention.

"Hermione!" Minerva announced loudly.

He watched as her gaze lift upon hearing her name; he presumed she had known immediately that it was her former head of house.

Temporarily abandoned by Minerva, in favour of her star pupil; it was as if the scene played out in slow motion before him. As they embraced Granger looked over Minerva's shoulder, her gaze locked with his own. He willed himself to maintain his usual austere countenance, lest she discover his secret, but then she smiled and it was beautiful.

"Mr Snape," she extracted herself from Minerva's grasp and approached him gracefully. "How are you? Are you still in the Department of International Magical Cooperation?"

Severus inclined his head in admission. "I am indeed, Miss Granger."

"If that's the case, I must come and see you next week; I am having a nightmare trying to access some patent records in Athens."

He looked down at her, how was it that she could make the very thought of patent records sound like a gift from Merlin himself. "Of course, I have on office on level five, opposite Lucilla Madingly, if you are familiar with her at all."

"Who isn't familiar with Lucilla?" she grinned. "If I have to hear Percy gush over her one more time, I shall be forced to hex his mouth shut."

"I did wonder why he has been passing by my office so much recently." Percy Weasley really was an irritating little toad. Thankfully they didn't cross paths very often, but he had an overly confident way about him that Severus couldn't abide. "You can put him out of his misery next time you speak to him then, as I am reliably informed that Lucilla is otherwise engaged."

"With you perhaps?" she replied all to quickly.

He could tell that she was teasing him."With me? Merlin forbid, no, I understand she is with some oaf from Sport and Games."

Witches such as Lucilla Madingly didn't step out with wizards such as Severus Snape, no matter how renowned he was, or how tragic his past. He allowed himself, just for a moment, the luxury of wondering what sort of wizard attracted the delectable Hermione Granger.

He tried to recall the name of wizards she had been connected to in the past. Perhaps her partner would be a notable Quidditch player, like that Krum fellow, or perhaps a homely little dunderhead like Ronald Weasley? Actually, he couldn't recall seeing her name in connection with anyone since her separation from Weasley a few years years ago. Whoever he was, Severus hoped he realised what a precious gift he had been given.

As if on a cue a swarthy young wizard with immaculately coiffured black hair and a neatly trimmed beard approached and handed Granger a glass of punch. Severus immediately decided he was a cretin.

"Zhere you are 'Ermione, I 'av been looking for you."

"Sorry," she apologised, taking the glass from his hand. "I just saw Mr Snape and wanted to say hello." She turned to introduce them. "Minerva, Mr Snape, this is Gaston Peltier, a contemporary from the French Ministry. We're working on an exchange programme for some of our developers."

Severus made sure to note the cretin's limp and sweaty handshake.

"It is good to meet you Monsieur Snape, I 'ave 'eard a lot about you, even in France."

He hated when strangers said things like that him, it was surely followed by a pitying glance as they silently recalled his history with Lily Potter. He loathed it.

"It is lovely to meet you Mr Peltier," interrupted Minerva enthusiastically. "Are you in London for long?"

"I am returning to Paris on Monday; it iz a pity I must go so soon, as 'Ermione 'as been such a generous 'ostess." Severus watched as he placed his hand on the small of Granger's back. "Maybe next time I can persuade 'Ermione to come to Paris."

"Oh well, we shall have to see." Granger replied, wearing what Severus was sure was a false smile. It appeared he wasn't the only person in the room that considered Gaston Peltier to be a cretin of the highest order.

"I have someone I simply must introduce you to Mr Peltier; he has a fascination with all thing Parisian," said Minerva. "Would you mind?"

"Lead ze way madam, it would be my pleasure." he replied. "Please excuze me 'Ermione, I must do my duty for Anglo-French relations."

As he moved to walk away Severus was sure he saw the idiot wink at her.

"What a thoroughly loathsome little man," he muttered, more to himself than to Granger.

"That's a little petty," Granger defended, "he's just trying to be friendly."

"I think you have known me long enough to know that I _am_ petty; I have always been petty and I am quite likely to continue being petty." Severus felt himself stand a little taller. "Secondly, I dare to suggest that_ that_ man is attempting to overstep his boundaries."

He prepared himself for her flight back into the room to rejoin her friends, but to his amazement, she laughed.

"I should know better than to try and fool you Mr Snape, you are right, he is _revolting_," she agreed. "He just won't stop following me around. I thought that by bringing him with me this evening, that he would find a distraction, if you know what I mean?"

"Then we can only hope that Minvera's Francophile is verbose and interested in Parisian dunderheads," he commented, noting that her glass was almost empty. "Would you like another glass of punch?" he asked.

"That's very kind of you, but I think I'll pass this round if you don't mind. It is rather strong and I think it is going to my head."

For a moment he felt the sting of her rebuff, but something about the way she averted her gaze led him to surmise that it wasn't a personal rejection.

"I... I should really go and find Felix," He watched as she picked at the corner of her purse. "It was lovely to see you again Mr Snape, I will come and visit you in your office next week about those patents, if you don't mind?"

"Not at all, Miss Granger." he replied, admiring the cut of her robes as she walked away. She was surely a divine creature.

SS

He'd spent most of the rest of the evening trapped in tedious conversation with the Minister and the Hungarian delegation. As it turned out they were quite willing to import up to three Horntails a year, the only condition being that Mr Harry Potter, the saviour of the world, attend the Hungarian Minister's National Security Conference. Much as Severus loathed to admit it, he has a reasonable working relationship with Mr Potter and he was confident that he would be able to obtain his agreement. The Hungarians were particularly excitable about the arrangement, much to Severus' disdain.

He had taken the opportunity to step outside for some fresh air, there was only so much polite conversation he could take for one night. The moon was particularly bright and seemed to illuminate the compact garden as he gathered his robes around him and sat on one of the stone benches.

It hadn't been a completely disastrous affair, he reflected; he'd achieved the desired outcome for the Minister, he'd managed to speak to his esteemed former colleagues, and he'd managed to hold a conversation with Granger, without making an utter fool of himself. He played with the cuff of his shirt as he replayed their conversation in his mind; he even had the promise of her attending him in his office next week, perhaps that would give him enough to live with for another couple of years. He would carry on with his life and she would carry on with her own; perhaps they might meet in the lift on occasion and share pleasantries, that was sure to be enough for him. Severus knew this had to be the case because there was one certainly which he knew to be true – he would never, ever, get what he desired.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I make nothing from this endeavour and I thank JKR for the gift of her characters.

This story does not have a beta. I do my best to check it all, but naughty things are bound to have slipped through the net.

For those who have followed this story, I apologise for the delay in updates, I have been moving house.

SS

His office was his sanctuary; a place where few people bothered to interrupt him, where he was the Chief Warlock of all he surveyed. He lit his desk lamp and tampered the flame, he preferred a warm glow to a bright, illuminating light. He plucked his inkwell from its ornate silver stand and noted that the ink would soon need to be replenished. How was it, Severus thought, that he got through so much ink? He had to be getting through a bottle a month – yet more proof that Ministry bureaucracy was alive and well.

He sat back in his chair and rubbed his temples with the tips of his fingers, trying to relieve some of the tension. It had been a particularly loathsome morning, even by his own desperate standards. He'd spent most of it listening to Edgar Dymchurch, Deputy to the Head of Magical Transportation, drone on and and on about the standardisation of floo powder composition, or some such drivel. Dym by name, dim by nature, obviously.

Dipping the nib of of his swan feather quill in to the nearly depleted inkwell he sighed and began writing; he was working on nothing interesting, unless one were interested in the exporting of Baneberry plants for use in pain relieving potions. He didn't mind such tasks; after twenty years of espionage and the marking of enough pitifully awful student essays to last a lifetime, report writing was a simple luxury. There was of course the added bonus that most quill pushers at the Ministry didn't know their wand from their broom handle; not that he didn't make an effort, he had his pride, but he simply didn't need to try very hard.

Unexpectedly there was a knock at the window; he set down his quill and opened the window, allowing a barn owl to hop in and perch next to his desk. Certain that the bird would expect a reward for its efforts he retrieved a pair of forceps and a jar of rabbit livers from the shelf behind his desk and offered the bird a treat, which it snatched and consumed greedily.

"You should have made it last, I don't give out seconds," Severus admonished as the bird loomed towards his hand, presumably on the off-chance that another helping was in the making.

Having placed the jar of livers back on the shelf he retrieved the scroll from the bird, unfurled it, and began reading.

_Dear Mr. Snape,_

_I am writing to thank you for speaking with us at the Ministry's European Education Regulation and Governance reception last week. We were particularly interested to hear of your suggestions pertaining to the practical teaching of Potions for advanced level students. _

_On the 17th September we will hold a seminar entitled 'Teaching in Practice and Perfection' and would like to invite you as a guest speaker, to speak on a subject of your choosing. _

_I believe I can declare, on behalf of all my colleagues, that it would be a great honour to secure your attendance. I look forward to your reply at your earliest convenience._

_Yours sincerely_

_Q. Richoux_

_Governor, Beauxbatons Academy of Magic._

Severus exhaled dramatically; two or three times a year he would be invited to speak at a conference, seminar, or similar such gatherings and rarely did he accept. The last event he attended had been about three years ago; it turned into a media circus and was less about the uses of hellebore, as it was about his attendance.

This was certainly an interesting proposition, in so far as he was being asked to speak at an educational conference, when he hadn't taught in a school for the best part of ten years. He dropped the letter in to the top drawer of his desk and sat back I his chair; it wouldn't do to make a hasty decision, he would give the matter due consideration.

Taking his quill in hand once again he was about to recommence report writing when there was a rather feeble knock at the office door.

"Enter," Severus instructed sharply. Would he ever be afforded the simple peace he needed to finish his report?

The door opened slowly and Severus watched as a scrawny boy wearing a pair of ghastly red trousers, a green waist coat and a white shirt, which wasn't tucked in properly, stepped in to his office. Severus also noticed that one of the boy's shoelaces had become untied and was threatening to send the him tripping across the office floor at any moment.

"Excuse me Mr Snape, there is a visitor here to see you," he announced nervously.

Severus allowed his gaze to travel slowly from the boy's shoes up to his angular face. "Watkins, what have I told you about your state of undress?" Severus snapped.

The boy immediately be began tucking his shirt in to his trousers. "S-Sorry, Mr Snape, I will try and remember next time."

Severus sighed. "You _will _remember Watkins or you will not be permitted admittance to my office. Merlin knows I would not be sorry to see you go; children are able to dress themselves more effectively than you. Now... you mentioned something about a visitor."

"Yes sir, Hermione Granger has requested to see you. I.. er, I did tell her that you don't see anyone without an appointment, but she wouldn't take no for an answer."

His eyebrows raised; well that sounded distinctly like the Granger he remembered. "I will see her Watkins, show Miss Granger in please."

"Yes, sir." Watkins scurried back out the door, stumbling over his shoelaces on the way.

Severus began brushing off his shirt sleeves and straightening his own waistcoat. Anticipating her appearance too eagerly for his own comfort, his eyes fixed on the sturdy oak door as it opened slowly and Miss Granger walked in.

"Hello, Mr. Snape, thank you for seeing us without an appointment, I know you are a very busy man," she apologised. He watched as she, radiant as ever, took a moment to take in her surroundings.

"Us?" Severus asked. He felt his teeth clench as his gaze fixed over her shoulder to the smug face of a young man with a round face and short brown hair.

"Oh goodness, I'm sorry." Granger spun around to introduce her companion. "This is Felix Windham, my colleague based at St Mungos. Felix, this is Mr Snape."

"It is a privilege to meet you, Mr Snape."

There was a fine line between confidence and arrogance, in which direction would this man be travelling, he wondered? Severus watched as Windham extended his hand by way of greeting; reluctantly, he reciprocated.

"Hermione has told me so much about you, I feel as if I know you already," said Windham, much too confidently,

"Has she, indeed?" he responded; his eyes flicked from Windham to Granger. It was the second time in only a few weeks that he had been told such a thing; surely the whole bloody world knew his unfortunate life story. She appeared unmoved; he shifted his attention back to Windham.

"Did I not teach you Mr Windham?" Severus asked curiously, diverting the conversation away from his personal life. There was no way he was young enough to have attended Hogwarts after his own departure, yet he didn't recognise him in the slightest.

"I went to Beauxbatons Academy," Windham replied." My mother is Dutch, so I grew up in Leiden and my parents decided to send me to Beauxbatons, rather than Hogwarts. I think my father would have liked me to go to Hogwarts; he was a proud member of Ravenclaw house, but my mother was keen for me to follow in her footsteps."

"You don't appear to have much of an accent for one who has grown up and been educated on the continent." Severus observed suspiciously.

"Oh, well, we spoke English at home," Windham replied by way of an explanation.

"I see," Severus paused for a brief moment. "Well, won't you both take a seat please." Severus walked back around his desk and sat in his comfortable black leather desk chair. "What can I do for you?" He wasn't going to spend the best part of the afternoon entertaining idle chatter.

"I'm not sure if you remember Mr Snape, but when we met last week I mentioned some patents we are trying to access in Athens, and I... _we_, would like to ask if there is anything you can do to help us?" she asked earnestly. "We just need to get some doors opened at the Ministry there."

"Do you have a contact to whom I can write to on your behalf Miss Granger?" he queried.

"I have exchanged several letters with Timon Pagonis, in the Intellectual Property Office, but as yet, we haven't been able to gain access to the information we have requested." Windham spoke for Granger, which irritated Severus immensely.

"I just don't see what more we can do without going higher up," said Granger, suddenly able to speak for herself. "Then I remembered that you worked here and I just wondered if there was some other way... that maybe you might be able to use your influence."

"What is so important about these patents that you are after?" Severus was curious. Patents were usually terribly uninteresting, unless you were about to step on someone else's toes, or they were about to step on your own.

"The Research and Development Department at St Mungos has been researching treatments for arthritis. They've made some fantastic progress with some bay infusions, but before they development them further, there is a possibility that some European patents, held by the Greeks, may have an impact on the final product... providing testing goes well of course.

"It might have some commercial implications for the team at St Mungos," added Windham.

Severus turned his attention to Windham. "Thank you Mr. Windham, I'm fully capable of reaching that conclusion on my own." He was thoroughly irritated by the presence of this young man and that, in turn, irritated him. Given half a chance he would throw the bothersome whelp out of his office and slam the door. He didn't suffer fools gladly at the best of times, but his negative feelings concerning the young man and thus the implication, bothered him greatly.

Severus shifted his gaze between the pair once more, tapping his fingers lightly on the top of his vast mahogany desk. Granger's hazel eyes were fixed on him intently, almost willing him to accept their request. He felt weak in the face of her scrutiny; he wondered for a moment if she could sense it.

"Just one letter?" Severus asked, looking for clarification. To his pleasure Granger smiled for the second time; immediately, he felt like a prize idiot to be so affected by such a simple gesture. People smiled all the time and he was sure Granger probably smiled more than most.

"Definitely just one letter," she confirmed. "If it doesn't help we'll explore other avenues and won't bother you again."

Severus sighed. "Say no more Miss Granger, I will acquiesce to your request."

Granger rose from her chair suddenly."I really can't thank you enough. If there is anything, _anything_ I can do for you in return-"

Please, Severus thought, please do not say you will do _anything_. "Enough!" he interrupted. "Please provide me with the particulars and I will write your letter for you this afternoon."

After a few minutes of exchanging details Granger and her colleague left; his office door was closed with a delicate 'click', leaving him to his peace. Instinctively he opened the bottom drawer of his desk and pulled out a bottle of Old Ogden's thirty year old single malt and a tumbler. As he poured a generous measure he pondered Granger's visit and wondered if he would see her again soon. It was unlikely, but it was probably for the best; it was no good allowing himself to think of her, not when it was an exercise in futility.

He downed his firewhiskey one swift mouthful.

SS

Several weeks later Severus slipped out through his office door and silently walked the short distance from his office to the reception area. He stopped as he rounded the corner and watched as Watkins, sitting behind the reception desk, sorted through a rather large bundle of rolled parchments. It was hypnotic, the way each scroll was carefully placed in its respective place, only for it to eventually roll off the side of the desk and bounce along the hardwood floor.

"Watkins," Severus snapped. "Please tell me you are familiar with a basic sorting charm." If this was the standard they set at Hogwarts since he stopped teaching, it was little wonder Minerva kept asking him to return. It was pitiful; this boy was pitiful.

"Y... yes sir," stammered the boy as hastily fumbled for his wand.

Severus wasted no time in casting a non-verbal sorting charm across the reception area, sending the scrolls in all directions before they eventually settled in their respective places.

"Show off."

Severus spun his head around in the direction of the distinctly familiar feminine voice. Granger.

"I know you don't see anyone without an appointment..." she said, he was certain she was mocking him, "but I just popped in on off-chance that you had five minutes spare?"

"I'm not sure that I do Miss Granger, you see I am otherwise occupied in the teaching of basic charms, as you can clearly see." Severus gave the boy look of disdain. "And here was I thinking that I had long given up teaching dunderheads."

Granger glanced over at Watkins sympathetically. "Shall we go to your office, Mr Snape?"

She moved around the reception desk, without invitation and down the hallway, towards his office. Severus followed along behind, admiring her; it felt wrong, but he found that at that moment, he didn't have the will to argue with himself.

"What can I do for you, Miss Granger?" he asked, taking his seat. "Have you another task to set me?" He couldn't decide if he wished it or not. He thought for just a moment how curious it was that he was undecided on such a thing, it was most unlike him. It was unsettling.

"I was just passing by and I thought you might like to know that the patent records arrived from Athens last Friday," she replied, ignoring his question. "I can't thank you enough for your assistance, it really was a great help."

"I have found in my time working for the Ministry that nothing solves diplomatic or bureaucratic problems faster than a thinly veiled threat from a former Death Eater."

"You didn't threaten them did you?" She frowned.

"Didn't I?" Severus raised a questioning eyebrow.

I don't think..." she paused. "No, actually I don't think you did." She smiled a knowing smile; a smile which made it clear to him that she thought him above such things. How did he feel about that?

"I simply called in a favour from a professional acquaintance," he replied evenly. "There are not many benefits to being a quill pusher in this department, but the contacts I have made have proved advantageous, from time to time."

She returned his gaze resolutely and turned her head as if he question him without speaking. He thought for a moment that she was the consummate Gryffindor; she didn't even try to hide her curiosity, it was written across her face.

"You wish to ask me a question?" Severus asked.

"Well, excuse me for asking, I know it isn't really my place-" she began, before he interrupted.

"But you will ask anyway?"

"I just can't understand what you are doing here? Your office is nice and I'm sure you meet some interesting people, but I can't think that your work is fulfilling."

Severus sat back in his chair and ran his hands along the mahogany arms until his hands reached to ornately carved ends, which he gripped loosely.

"I am content in my work, Miss Granger, that is all you need to know."

She sat forward on to the edge of her chair. "But you've said yourself that you're just a 'quill pusher', don't you want to do more than shuffle Ministry parchment?"

"I appreciate your proclivity for sticking your nose in to the business of others, but you should understand that in this instance, your interest in my welfare is not solicited." Against his own nature he resisted the urge to raise his voice. Even now she was still infuriating it seemed.

It was her turn to sit back in her chair and he watched her sigh dramatically. "I just don't understand why you aren't working in potions or curse-breaking... or even out hunting out dark wizards."

"Perhaps because _I_ am a dark wizard? Had that ever occurred to you?" Severus replied. "Let us not forget," he continued, "that I worked with potions for twenty years, perhaps that was enough for me."

"You didn't work with potions," she challenged. "You oversaw groups of uninterested children and teenagers as they tried their best not to blow up the school."

He supposed he should have felt flattered that this passionate young woman saw something in him which was more than he saw in himself. It was true that he had a natural talent where potions were concerned, but that didn't make a profession, did it? It was also true that he found his current occupation unchallenging, but he didn't need challenging at this stage of if his life. He'd had enough of challenging for more than one lifetime.

"May I reassure you that I am quite satisfied with my position?" he replied firmly.

She leant forward and shuffled in her bag for a period of time before rising and holding a business card in his direction. "Here is my card... if you change you mind."

He remained motionless, prompting her to place the card on his desk, on top of a parchment.

"Thank you again Mr Snape," she arose from the chair and gripped her bag close to her body. "I'll see myself out."

As the door to his office closed, he stared at her business card as if it were a hungry Flesh-Eating Slug and read:

_Miss Hermione Granger,_

_Arithmancer,_

_St Mungos Department of Research and Development._


	3. Chapter 3

_AN: Thanks to JKR for allowing us to play with her characters. I make nothing from this endeavour. As ever I have no beta so there is bound to be a mistake or two._

_Sorry for the delay between updates. I have been sorting much out since the house move._

SS

"Lumos."

Severus held his illuminated wand before him as he pushed open the door to his house and stepped into the porch.

"What time do you call this? You're unusually late."

Severus glared at the antique door knocker, made in the likeness of a lion's head, and promptly slammed the door closed. He unbuttoned his cloak and hung it up on the solitary peg, next to his mother's umbrella stand. His mother had bought the umbrella stand from a market trader in the town when he was just a boy and despite Severus having never owned an umbrella, he couldn't bring himself to do away with it. Elaine Prince had suffered the wrath of her husband for bringing it home, making a now adult Severus even more inclined to keep it in the house.

He moved into the living room, his boots breaking the silence by clicking upon contract with the wooden floorboards. Wordlessly he lit the various lamps and candles located along the mantle piece and on the small table situated next to his threadbare lounge chair. The chair was another of his mother's legacies; the second chair, his father's, having long been cast out of the house. Severus didn't consider himself to be sentimental for the most part, but occasionally he allowed himself an indulgence or two. Generally, items he associated with his mother he kept and those he considered to be his father's he had disposed of long ago.

Taking his seat in his chair next to the small fireplace, he unfurled the evening edition of the _Daily Prophet. _Despite working for the Ministry, reading the daily newspaper was his on way of keeping up with news and events. Years ago, his life was different, reading the newspaper was an activity best avoided, but now, it was a simple pleasure. On weekends he would drink his coffee and read the newspaper, and if he felt so inclined, he could Apparate to Diagon Alley and visit Slug and Jiggers, Flourish and Blotts, or even to Sugarplum's, where he would indulge in a liquorice wand, or two.

As he flipped through the pages of the newspaper he revelled in the tedium of the daily news; nothing of significance happened, which was just fine with Severus Snape. The first few pages were concerned with the scandal of a new wand shop _daring _to open in Diagon Alley. A wizard by the name of Reuben Sumpious had, according to the newspaper, the audacity to open his wand shop only six doors down from Ollivander's. Severus shook his head dismissively; why would any wizard, or witch for that matter, buy their wand from anyone other than Ollivander? It was unimaginable.

He flicked the paper before turning the page and was momentarily struck by a half page photograph: it was his old friend Lucius Malfoy and none other than Hermione Granger, smiling for the camera. He read the caption:

"_St Mungo's benefactor Lucius Malfoy, St Mungo's Arithmancer Hermione Granger and St Mungos Head of Research and Development, Healer Rutherford Poke at the 159th Annual Fundraising Dinner."_

Severus immediately recognised Poke as the dull healer from a meeting he'd had concerning the standardisation of floo powder several months earlier; the man could drone on for hours on the subject.

Next his gaze fixed to Lucius Malfoy, still with his long blonde hair, aristocratic features and finely tailored robes; surprisingly, his friendship with Lucius had remained intact after the war; never the less, Severus hadn't been aware that Lucius had taken up philanthropy on such a large scale.

Finally, almost as if he was rewarding himself for his patience, he allowed himself to look upon Hermione Granger. He had not had any contact with her since she had visited his office and thrust her business card in his direction. Her graceful plum coloured robes were were cut to flatter, hugged her curves and were obviously expensive. She was wearing her hair up, with just a few loose ringlets worn down to frame her face. Severus watched as she smiled warmly at Lucius, looked back at the camera and waved, before the image repeated itself. Had he not known Lucius to be utter devoted to his wife Narcissa, he would he been a jealous man indeed.

Aware of his train of thought he sat back in his chair, closed his eyes and sighed heavily. It was pathetic, _he_ was pathetic. He hated feeling this way, he loathed it. For years he had been free from the yoke which had been his love for Lily. There was no doubt that Lily would always be important to him, how could she not be? But the obsession was gone; he had been through too much to allow the fixation to continue. Lily had been a shining light in an otherwise bleak childhood but he'd poisoned their friendship with his need for recognition from his peers and his thoughtless actions. He would never be able to forgive himself where she was concerned, but the past was the past, best locked away.

So what was he doing? Why had he allowed Hermione Granger to get under his skin in such a way? He thought back a little more than eighteen months ago, at a dinner to celebrate the fall of the Dark Lord; Granger had been seated to his left, and to his surprise, had been an interesting dinner companion. They'd put the world to rights and talked of everything from politics to her mother's roasted duck recipe. Had it started even then? He supposed the seeds must have been sown that night as he had barely given her a second thought in the years before.

They'd bumped in to each other a few times since and each time he recalled noticing small things that he admired: her tenacity, the passionate way she would debate a subject, even her interest in academia intrigued him. He had always considered her to be a know-it-all; in some respects she was still, but it didn't seem to matter any longer for she had grown in to a compelling young woman with mesmeric hazel eyes. After each occasion they met he would find himself thinking about those eyes a little more often, until that awful evening at the Ministry. Even now he cringed at his own behaviour.

Perhaps he was lonely? He sat up at the thought, folded the newspaper and slammed it down on his coffee table. _Lonely? _Now _that_ was a ridiculous; when had he not been satisfied with his own company?

Making his way to the kitchen to make a cup of tea his thoughts wandered again. The last ten years had been some of the most pleasant of his life; he'd been his own master, he was employed and generally speaking, he had the respect he had craved as a younger man. It was peaceful and he very much liked peaceful. As he poured boiling water in to his mug he resolved to forget about her. He was an infamous master of his emotions and master he would remain.

SS

"We cannot thank you enough Monsieur Snape, your prezentation was most, how do you say? Illuminating."

Severus nodded head once in acknowledgement of the other man's praise.

"Are you sure you will not stay for the dinner tonight?" asked the rotund older wizard as he continued to shake Severus' hand enthusiastically.

"I thank you but no, I have another engagement this evening," Severus replied, extracting his hand.

The white, cloud-like, eyebrows of the other man moved down as he frowned. "Ze board will be most disappointed, we had hoped we have ze opportunity to talk a little more.

"Alas, it cannot be helped, perhaps another time?

The older wizard smiled. "Oui! I will make I so Monsieur."

Severus _Disapparated _with a resounding crack.

SS

"Now Lucius, why is it that I must travel all the way to Paris in order for us to have dinner together?" he asked, immediately after having arrived at his destination.

Lucius Malfoy smiled and patted his friend on the shoulder. "You know I have a penchant for French cuisine and honestly, who wouldn't want an evening out in Paris?"

It was true that Paris had always been one of Severus' favourite European cities, along with Florence, Seville, and Prague amongst a few others. There was something hauntingly distinct about the atmosphere in Paris, that he'd not experienced elsewhere.

The pair emerged from the cobbled Parisian backstreet, rounded the corner and walked towards an elaborately carved oak door, which swung open as they arrived and invited them to enter.

Severus allowed the matire d' to take his cloak as he seated himself opposite one of his oldest friends. They hadn't always seen eye to eye, but time had been a healer and Lucius had been very keen to demonstrate to him his appreciation of Severus' protection of Draco during the waning years of the Dark Lord's reign of terror.

"Quite so," replied Severus, casting his eye over the menu.

"So, how did you enjoy your little sojourn to the Pyrenees? I trust it provided a satisfactory distraction from all of that Ministry toil?" Lucius goaded.

"What you deem 'toil', I consider to be honourable employment. We can't all live on our inheritance Lucius."

"Dear me Severus, are you going all 'class struggle' on me?"

"Not at all," he replied blandly, not bothering to up from his menu. "I was simply pointing out that there is satisfaction to be had by earning one's keep." Severus was sure he heard a sigh from across the table.

"Yes, I'm sure we can all go sleep safely in our beds knowing that the distribution of some tedious creature's body parts are now regulated to the Ministry's satisfaction."

Severus looked up and stared at his dinner companion pointedly. Lucius had always been a tremendous snob and time and the demise of the Dark Lord had done nothing to change him. "Shall we consider the menu and not my occupation?"

Lucius laughed lightly. "Of course, of course."

The pair passed the evening in companionable conversation on all matters, including the opening of the new wand shop in Diagon Alley. "Does it really matter?" Severus had asked. "I'll give him six months before the shop is closed and he's moved on."

"You have to see the novelty in such a thing," replied Lucius. "These days a new shop opens in Diagon Alley once in every twenty years... who would have thought we would have a new wand shop?"

"Thinking of trading your wand in for a new model?"

Lucius pressed the petit pois on to the back of his fork. "Speaking of new models, have you seen Hermione Granger recently?"

Severus felt himself go cold; he used the time it took to chew a piece of his filet migon to compose himself and to relay his mask of indifference. "Not of late. Why do you ask?"

"No reason. I had the unexpected pleasure of meeting her at a dinner recently and thought she had..." he lifted his wine glass to his lips and seemed to considered his next words carefully. "Grown up well."

"I did happen to see your photograph in the _Prophet, _with that loathsome imbecile, Rutherford Poke."

"Old Pokey is a harmless fellow," Lucius replied. "I know he has his little obsessions, but don't we all?"

Severus replied with raise of his eyebrows; he wasn't sure if his friend's choice of words were deliberate. Lucius had always disapproved of Lily Evans and time had done nothing to change his mind in that regard.

"Never the less, I found Hermione Granger to be most surprising," added Lucius.

"Surprising, how?" Severus dabbed the corners of his mouth with his serviette.

"I had always considered, from what you and Draco have said in the past, and my own observation, that she would be a bookish bore. Imagine my surprise when I found her to be a most engaging dinner table companion."

They both paused as the waiter refilled both of their wine glasses.

"She's doing some wonderful things at St Mungos, I was quite taken with her."

Severus was grateful at that moment that his raised glass hadn't yet reached his lips. "Is Narcissa aware of your new 'friendship'?"

It was Lucius' turn to raise his eyebrows across the table. "What, exactly, are you suggesting?"

"Nothing at all."

"Honestly, she's young enough to be my own daughter." Lucius chuckled. "Rest assured I can appreciate a fine wine without opening the bottle."

Severus couldn't help but glance down at his plate momentarily; there it was, another hard dose of reality and a reminder of how ridiculous and inappropriate were his feelings for Granger. "You mentioned you were taken with her, what other conclusion was I to draw from that little statement?"

"I was just toying with you. You know you're much too serious sometimes Severus." Lucius set down his knife and fork. "There's no doubt in my mind that she's got a career ahead of her. Did you know that Poke is considering offering her the position as head of the arithmancy department?"

Now that was surprising.

"Of course," Lucius continued, "I'm sure it helps that Poke is a little infatuated with her himself."

"He's old enough to be her_ father's_ father." Severus felt his eyes widen in surprise.

"Oh I don't imagine for one moment that anything will come from it and I am almost certain that Poke isn't ignorant of the fact either, but a man has to have a little fantasy or two in his life, don't you think?"

"Quite. Now, shall we consider the dessert menu?" Severus replied.

SS

Laying in his own bed that same evening, Severus couldn't fathom why he had ordered desert; the tarte tatin had been very good, sublime even, but that didn't matter now that he was uncomfortably full and unable to sleep. He rolled on to his side and plumped his pillow several times, vainly hoping that it would make a difference to his comfort. Deep down he knew he had been making excuses; it wasn't the tarte bloody tatin that was keeping him awake, it was Hermione _bloody_ Granger.

He'd been getting on with life well enough over the last few weeks with barely a thought in her direction; one newspaper photograph and one dinner conversation later, she was waltzing through his mind unabated.

It seemed she was carving out a nice career for herself over at St Mungos; from bottom feeder to head a department in just a few years was almost unheard of in wizarding society, it was a case of a dead man's shoes in most positions. He'd been plodding on for years and hadn't even made head of his division; apparently an Order of Merlin didn't accelerate your career when you were a reformed Death Eater, not in the same way as it did when Harry _bloody_ Potter was your close friend.

Growling, he rolled over on to his back and stared at the ceiling; a shard of light from the street lamp outside had slipped through a gap in the curtains and illuminated the room. He'd told himself once before that he would forget about her and he was resolved to see his task through to the end. He needed a distraction; he could take up a hobby, perhaps he could get back to dabbling with potions as he had in the past. Momentarily he thought of Claudia Collingbourne; perhaps he should consider meeting a witch, nothing too serious – a dinner companion - someone to pull his mind way from his inappropriate attachment. Maybe he could accept of a few more speaking engagements; he had rather enjoyed his visit to Beauxbatons and he wasn't short of an invitation or two. Yes, he reflected, that would do quite nicely.

A little lighter of mind he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: Thank you to JKR for allowing us to play with her characters. As ever I have no beta so please step lightly over any errors :)_

SS

The Ministry's main atrium was an awful place as far as he was concerned; literally thousands of people rushing around in all directions with little to no idea of where they were going. Each morning Severus had no choice but to battle through the crowds to reach a lift, which would take him up to his level five sanctuary, via hell. If he were very fortunate he'd travel in a lift which stopped at every floor; those days were the very best of days.

_Today_ was one of those days. He'd be the first to admit that he had a large personal space compared to many others, which subsequently meant many an uncomfortable journey in the lift. This morning he had the pleasure of sharing his space with a rather vacant looking wizard in his mid-thirties wearing absurdly huge glasses; a very tall older wizard who was standing directly behind him, digging his briefcase in to Severus' thigh; a couple of younger wizards who looked, and smelt, very much like they'd just come from Quidditch practice, and an overly made-up older witch, who stood by the doors and kept smiling in his direction. He scowled in return. So far he'd been from the Atrium to level four, up to level three, down to level seven up to level three again before stopping at level two. As the doors opened for the fifth time he closed his eyes and sighed.

"Excuse me. Sorry, I know there isn't much room. Terribly sorry."

He was jolted abruptly in to the right as the other lift occupants moved around to make room for the new arrival. The briefcase was then pushed against his buttock and 'smiling witch', who he was now forced to lean against, grabbed his arm to steady herself as she was jolted sideways in turn.

"Thank you so much Severus, you literally saved my life!" she gushed dramatically. "I could have fallen over. How embarrassing!"

"I'm sorry, do I know you?" Severus snapped, snatching his arm away from her claw-like grip.

"I'm Imelda Stroud. I work in the Minister's Office!" She introduced herself as if he should have known. "I've seen you about in the mornings and I've been hoping to bump into you."

"Have you indeed? Well aren't you the lucky one," Severus replied, flatly.

"Perhaps, one evening you and I, um... we could-"

"I do believe this is your stop Madam," he interrupted as the lift came to an abrupt halt and the doors opened. "Minister's Office wasn't it?"

The other occupants began to shuffle around the enclosed space to make room for those exiting to make their way out.

"Excuse me, this is my stop," said 'Briefcase' as he rammed said briefcase in to Severus' thigh for what felt like the hundredth time.

"Will you mind what you are doing with that thing!" Severus turned abruptly and shouted.

"I'm sorry, its just that this is quite a small lift for so many people," the man replied.

"I'm pleased that I am not the only person who has noticed. You would _imagine_ other's would also, before barging their way in when it is _obviously_ full," Severus replied loudly.

'Briefcase' shifted past him, ignoring his little rant, before proceeding to use the briefcase as a tool in which to in which to urge Ms Stroud into motion. "Come on Imelda, we'll be late."

"But I was just-"

It was a great pity he never heard the end of the sentence, before Imelda Stroud was carried away and out of the lift doors by 'Briefcase' and his urgency. Thank Merlin for small favours.

The doors closed again and with marginally more room than he had before Severus stood at the back of the lift, well out of the way of potential new arrivals. The next stop was level seven, where the putrid Quidditch players departed and thankfully, no one alighted.

As the doors closed for the seventh time his view of those in front of him cleared and he froze. There _she_ was, standing not two feet from where he was trapped, as if everything was perfectly normal. Well it wasn't normal! He'd been packed in to a box the size of a broom cupboard which flatly refused to end his misery by stopping at level five; he'd been practically molested twice – once by a briefcase. He couldn't believe other people had the audacity to proclaim that _he_ was the anti-social one. At least _he_ was able to practice lift etiquette without too much trouble.

She was obviously ignoring him after his earlier barb about people pushing in to the lift. Well, that was just fine, it was better this way; this way meant he could carry on with his work without analysing their conversation for the remainder of the day. It had to have been at least six months since he had last seen her in his office and he had been getting on with his life very well, thank you. He still thought of her often, but he supposed that was normal. It was natural to think of others when one was getting on with one's life.

After the lift had stopped at another two levels, it was only he and Granger that remained."I was beginning to think they'd never get out," Granger said, turning to face him. "Look, I'm so sorry Mr Snape, I didn't mean to barge in but these lifts are all over the place this morning and I just couldn't wait any longer."

"I had that man's briefcase shoved in to my leg and I was physically assaulted by a witch wearing enough make-up to open up a cosmetics department, all thanks to you and your self-importance," he responded snidely. Later, he would look back and regret his reaction, but for now he was on a roll. "Tell me Miss Granger, why do you consider yourself so exceptional that others have to suffer for you?"

She visibly recoiled at his reaction to her apology. "I said I was sorry. I can't offer you more than that now can I?" said Granger firmly. "If you must know, I am about to be a late for my portkey to Paris."

Paris. What was Granger doing in Paris?

"I just popped in to wish Ron a Happy Birthday, which would have been great if these bloody lifts weren't on the blink." He watched mutely as she gestured in frustration at the lift doors. "Now I'm going to have to ask for another portkey, but I don't have my authorisation papers with me."

He glanced down his nose at her and marvelled how genuinely flustered she appeared.

"This is your stop isn't it? Level five?"

"Excuse me?" he questioned.

"Level five," she replied solemnly as the doors opened.

In a moment of what could only have been considered madness he shook his head. "Come with me to the Portkey Office and I'll see what I can do."

"What do you mean? I don't have my papers with me!" Granger replied, shaking her bag urgently in his direction as if to demonstrate that it was empty.

"I _said_, I would see what I can do Miss Granger, or would you prefer that I left you to your own devices on the matter?" Didn't this woman ever listen?

She looked up towards him. "Really? You could help me?"

The doors opened. "As luck would have it this is level six; come with me Miss Granger." He gestured for her to precede him. They walked together, their footfalls in unison, past the Floo Network Authority and into the Portkey Office.

They were greeted by a middle aged witch in a baggy blue cardigan who looked over her narrow framed glasses at them as they approached the desk."Oh my, you're Hermione Granger aren't you?" she asked.

Severus glanced at Granger; he supposed that rather like himself, she was used to being recognised and as expected she smiled at the receptionist and confirmed her identity. Thankfully he was known to visit the Portkey Office relevantly often these days and was thus familiar with the staff.

"Mrs Richardson, I am hoping you may be of help," he began. "As you may be aware the lift system appears to be malfunctioning this morning, which has led to Miss Granger missing her portkey to Paris. Could you be so kind as to assist us in arranging a new portkey?"

"Certainly, may I have your authorisation form Miss Granger?" asked the receptionist, holding out her hand expectantly.

Granger frowned. "I don't have it with me I'm afraid," she said, lifting her bag as if to demonstrate their absence. "I've just been delayed – I didn't think I would need them."

The receptionist pushed her glasses up her nose, which Severus presumed was some sort of show of authority in these situations.

"Madam, I do appreciate that the usual procedure for Miss Granger would be to procure advanced authorisation; however, if you will bring the forms to me, I am authorised to sign them."

He noticed Granger turn abruptly in his direction. "Mr Snape –"

If you would be so kind Mrs Richardson," he urged.

The receptionist looked stared at them both suspiciously for a few moments before, reluctantly, getting up and exiting through the door which led in to the back office.

"Mr Snape, you can't sign my authorisation form," Granger stated firmly in a hushed tone.

"Are you telling me what I can and cannot do Miss Granger?" he asked.

"But you're not my line manager," she insisted, "Healer Poke is supposed to sign my travel authorisation form."

"No one will look at the bloody form once your portkey has been issued so why don't you keep quiet and let me sign your form." Severus hissed. "Or would you rather not travel to Paris today."

"But then I'll miss my meeting!"

"I think you've answered my question, don't you?" he replied, irritably.

Granger frowned and looked away in obvious discomfort. "We shouldn't be doing this you know. I am supposed to be a department head and setting a good example."

"But..." he led, urging her to continue.

"This my first big project and I really can't miss this meeting," she whined.

Severus had to confess he was a little perplexed at her reaction to his plan. "When did you become such a follower of the rules?" he queried.

She slowly smiled and looked away. "Perhaps I just realise the consequences of my actions a little more than I did at Hogwarts."

"More serious consequences than losing one's life, for example?" he goaded, raising an eyebrow in her direction.

"Okay, sign the form," she sighed.

"Manners, Miss Granger."

"Please sign the form, Mr Snape!"

Severus looked at her and couldn't help but be amused at her outward demeanour; if he didn't know better he would have assumed she was annoyed with him, rather than pleased for his help in solving her little problem. She was standing with a vice-like grip on her bag with one hand, the other was obviously balled into a tight fist and sat in her coat pocket.

"You might want to relax a little –"

"Oh hello Severus, I didn't expect you in here today."

He looked back behind the reception desk to see his sometime his dinner companion, Antonia Mosset, who just happened to be Head of the Portkey Office. There was no denying she was an attractive witch; long brown hair, green eyes and a curvaceous figure. She had been in Slytherin a year ahead of himself.

"Antonia, an unexpected pleasure," he greeted her politely.

"Goodness, Hermione Granger, isn't it?"

Granger nodded and smiled nervously.

"Sorry I have been remiss in my manners." he apologised. "Miss Granger, this Antonia Mosset. Antonia, this is Hermione Granger."

The two woman exchanged formal pleasantries but were soon interrupted by the return of Mrs Richardson, the receptionist, clutching two copies of the portkey authorisation form."Now Miss Granger, if you could just complete sections one to seven and Mr Snape, if you can complete sections eight and nine and sign at the bottom please."

"Are you off somewhere nice?"Antonia asked, as Granger began completing the form.

"Yes, actually," Severus quickly replied, not giving Granger a moment to respond. "We're visiting Paris." He cringed internally at what must seem like a suggestive comment as to the relationship between himself and Granger. "A business trip," he added for good measure.

"Oh you lucky pair, I just adore Paris," she enthused and smiled in Severus' direction somewhat suggestively, as if to hint that she might also enjoy a sojourn to the city of romance.

He was a little surprised considering they had shared no more than four meals together in a five month period, it wasn't as if they were together in any way. Then it occurred to him that perhaps she was interested in more than he was willing to give. How typical, just as he found someone who's company he could enjoy, _without_ complications, they wanted complications.

Thankfully at that moment Granger pushed the forms over to him and he dutifully completed the relevant sections and pushed them back across the counter towards the receptionist.

"Well, I must get on. It was lovely to finally meet you Miss Granger," said Antonia. "Perhaps I will see you soon Severus?"

"Yes, perhaps," he replied, a little more coolly than he intended.

Antonia's smile faltered only slightly as she turned and made her way back through to her office.

"There you are Miss Granger, if you'd like to make your way to the milk bottle, which is sitting in a red plastic crate in the alley between Webber Street and Valentine Place," she circled the location on a map. "It leaves in 25 minutes, so you'll need to be quick."

"Thank you, you've been a really very helpful," replied Granger, gathering the map in her hand and turning towards the door.

Severus nodded in Mrs Richardson's direction before following Granger out of the office and back towards the lifts.

"I really can't thank you enough Mr Snape, you've been such a help. And I really am really sorry again for barging in to the lift this morning, but I can't help but think that things happen for a reason sometimes. Who knows what would have happened if you hadn't been in that lift and come to my rescue."

He felt himself walk a little taller upon hearing her praise;he found, unsurprisingly, that he actually delighted in hearing it. Severus realised then that all the effort he had made to try and rid himself of his attraction towards her was all for nought, because as soon as she aimed even the most superficial of compliments in his direction, he was a lost man. "Think nothing of it." He looked away from her for just a moment in the hope of composing his expression.

"And I'm sorry if I caused any problems between you and your girlfriend," she continued. "I think she thought we were going away together."

"Of course she thought we were going away together; it would be rather suspicious if the Head of the Portkey Office saw me signing a travel form for the Head of Arithmancy, if she didn't think we were going together. I'm not authorised to sign it if I'm no going too." He looked down and actually saw her blush. He was doomed.

"Oh... well, of course, that makes perfect sense," she replied.

"You should speak to Poke about getting authorisation to sign your own forms. It seems ridiculous in the extreme that he has to sign a simple portkey request." Severus commented as they reached the lift lobby.

"I've tried, but he's very insistent that all travel is approved by him," said Granger in defeat.

"Why am I not surprised?" Severus muttered under his breath. Poke was an imbecile.

Just then the lift arrived and they both stepped in and pushed the button for their respective floors; Granger to the Atrium on level eight and Severus to his office on level five. The lift began to move they stood in silence; he tried to think of something to say which wasn't related to lifts, portkeys or other modes of transportation. Granger appeared perfectly relaxed and quite changed from her anxious state in the Portkey Office. After a short journey the doors opened.

"This is my level," said Granger. "And thank you again, I owe you one." Severus watched as she smiled at him before turning and stepping out of the lift.

"Miss Granger," he called and watched her turn back to face him. "She isn't my girlfriend," he blurted.

Granger looked confused. "Sorry?" she replied.

Abruptly, the lift doors closed.

Severus took a step back, sagged against the back of the lift and growled in frustration.


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: I thank JKR for allowing us to play with her characters. As ever I make no money from this endeavour. _

_No beta so please hop lightly over my mistakes :)_

SS

Several days after their chance encounter at the Ministry, Severus was still reeling. He was haunted by her face, his pathetic declaration, and his cringe inducing use of the word 'girlfriend'. Even now he could not fathom what must have been going through his mind for him to say such a thing. Did it really matter if she thought Antonia had been his... significant other? What did he expect her to say in reply? Was she going to smile and apologise for the misunderstanding? Hardly. Pathetic. He was using that word to describe himself rather a lot recently and he was much too proud to be comfortable about it.

He had briefly entertained the idea of going to her office to explain himself; ask her out for lunch and tell her how he felt about her, thereby putting an end to his misery and having it all out in the open. But life was seldom so simple and he was no Gryffindor - prone to theatrics and all too bold displays of emotion. Then he considered writing her a letter; a casual, professional, letter to enquire as to how her meeting had gone in Paris. It seemed the most sensible option; he'd even gotten so far as to dip the nib of his quill in to the inkwell, before he gathered himself together and thought better of it. He had to forget about her. He must forget about her.

SS

Severus had been accepting many more speaking engagements of late in an effort to spend less time brooding. The consequences of which in included a small, but noticeable increase in interest in his comings and goings by the press. Thankfully, it was nothing he couldn't handle; most of the stories were of nothing society didn't know about him already, and he wasn't about offer them any new fodder. Was it irritating? Of course. Did it make him want to hex the next journalist he found standing outside any hotel he was staying in? Naturally. Was it a minor miracle he hadn't been sent to Azkaban for almost cursing a couple of them with an unforgiveable? Definitely.

He found himself in Paris just two months after assisting Granger with her portkey predicament. On this occasion he wasn't visiting for a private engagement, but a three day conference concerning consumer protection with regards to potions and the regulation of restricted substances. For once he was attending a conference in a professional capacity and actually held an interest in the subject matter... well, he was as interested as one could possibly be about such a gathering.

The event was being held in a rather exquisite hotel. His room was large enough to have a separate lounge area, which was richly furnished with a mahogany desk and coffee table, sofa and two matching chairs. Such accommodation was definitely a perk of working for the Ministry and he briefly considered the cost. It was just a shame the mattress was about as comfortable as sleeping on dragon hide.

The first day comprised of an exhibition, held in the hotel, and an evening of networking opportunities in the Grand Lounge if one were so inclined. Severus chose to sweep around the exhibition at as rapid a pace as he was permitted and was very pleased to have procured an ounce of bloomslang skin at a very reasonable price.

Unsurprisingly, he chose to go back to his room that evening and order room service rather to than attend the 'drinks, nibbles and networking' evening. It was difficult enough to walk around the exhibition without being stopped and introduced to someone he wasn't in least bit interested in meeting, without attending a formal event designed specifically for the purpose. At home it was a little easier; he had taught many of the younger population and went to school with those his around his own age, but on the continent, his presence was still somewhat of a novelty.

On the second day he sat though two professional development sessions, both mind-numbing, and a round table discussion on the future of commercial dragon's liver import licenses for potioneers. The day had been mildly interesting if only for the fact that he managed to correct several erroneous statements made by an irritating red-faced wizard who'd tried to introduce himself, and a number of his colleagues, to Severus several times the day before.

Day three was filled with a selection of larger sessions concerning the legalities of selling restricted potions on the international market. These were of personal interest as he was considering starting up a small production of rarer potions in order to bring in a few extra gallons.

By the time the day was over Severus wasn't afraid to admit that he was drained. He stood in front of the mirror in his hotel bathroom and lent on the basin, frowning at the dark circles under his eyes. He just didn't sleep very well away from his own bed, which was somewhat ironic considering it took him at least eighteen months to get a full night's sleep in that house after all the years at Hogwarts.

"I've seen worse."

Severus took a step back and stared at the mirror. "Excuse me?" he asked, confused.

"I've seen worse," repeated the mirror.

Who in Merlin's name thought it was a good idea to put a charmed mirror in a hotel bathroom and why had it waited until now to pipe up? He cast a quick _Silencio,_ wandered back to the bedroom to change into his night shirt and slid in to bed. Why were hotel mattresses so uncomfortable? Why were they always saggy in the middle and why was there always an obligatory spring trying to tunnel its way in to his back. He groaned and for the third time that week he cast a quick cushioning charm and rolled on to his side, pulling the duvet up and over his shoulder as he went.

He was just drifting off to sleep when he heard a sudden, loud noise, from outside his hotel room door. At first he tried to block it out and considered casting a silencing charm, but as he became more awake he realised it was the sound of people have an argument. Their voices were muffled, but he thought it was obviously a couple. Why did they insist on hanging their dirty laundry out in public? Had they no concept of common decency?

He loathed public arguments. He was reminded of the many times his father had stood shouting at at his mother through the letter box of their house in Spinner's End; banging on the door and trying to get in, after spending the whole day drinking down at the local. The neighbour's curtains would twitch as they peeked out the window to get a good look at the hapless Snapes and their dysfunctional family. This was usually followed the next morning by Severus stepping over his father's unconscious form on his way out the house to meet Lily.

"Get off me you oaf!" shouted the female voice.

That was all Severus needed to hear; he grabbed his wand, leapt out bed and threw the door to the hallway open. He was greeted with the sight of a young wizard with his wand raised and a witch with her back to them both. Severus lunged forward and grabbed the back of the wizard's shirt, pushing him backwards against a door, casting a non-verbal _Expelliarmus _in the process. The wand went flying, bouncing off of the light fitting before hitting the floor.

"I don't know what is going on here, young man, but I do know that you require better manners." Severus hissed, shoving the tip of his wand in to the wizard's neck for good measure. "Some of us are trying to sleep."

"Merlin," the young wizard laughed. "I think you've got the wrong end of the wand mate."

Severus stepped forward aggressively and grabbed the wizard's shirt. "Firstly, the lady told you to leave her alone and secondly, I am most certainly not your mate." He hadn't felt this angry for some considerable period of time, probably years. He could smell the heavy stench of alcohol on the wizard's breath; his fist closed a little tighter, until his knuckles went white and he jabbed his wand forward a fraction. "Do I look like a fool to you, boy? And do be _very_ careful before you answer that question," he threatened.

"No! Look, I'm sorry!" cried the wizard helplessly. "Just give me back my wand and I'll go!"

"Mr Snape." Severus felt a tugging at his wand arm, which he did his best to ignore in his rage. He threw the wizard away from him and kicked the wand to his feet.

"Get out of my sight!" Snape ordered. The young wizard snatched his wand from the floor and scurried away.

Severus rubbed his eyes, turned and came face to face with none other than Hermione Granger, her face flushed in the lamplight, make-up smudged around her eyes and her hair in wild disarray. He moved a step closer and saw the last evidence of the tears she must have wiped from her face.

"You didn't have to do that, I was just telling him to leave." Granger stated, less than convincingly for his taste.

He hung his head for a moment, considering his next words carefully."If you had... if you had grown up in a family such as mine Miss Granger... perhaps you would understand." He was certain she already knew of his alcoholic father, who didn't? "Are you unharmed?"

"Yes. Yes, I'm fine. Nothing happened, I was just a little startled" She sniffed and looked away defiantly. "He was just trying to kiss me. I can handle things myself," she added, her chin raised.

"I have no doubt you can," he assured her. "But I am not able to stand by and let something like that carry on right outside my bedroom door."

As if on cue a door creaked open a little way down from where they stood. "What's going on? We're trying to get some sleep!" shouted a voice from the room.

"Why don't you mind your own bloody business and go to back to bed then!" Snape shouted back angrily. They both heard the door click closed without reply.

Granger turned back to face him, sniffed again; he wanted to comfort her, but was completely lost as to how – there was only so much comforting he could reasonably offer whilst standing in his nightshirt, in the middle of a dimly lit hotel hallway.

"I think you should return to your room and get a good night's rest," he advised. "I'm sure that idiot will feel more than a little embarrassed about his behaviour in the morning.

He thought he was offering her his support in saying such a thing, but it only prompted the tears to flow. "I thought he was a decent person. We'd been getting along so well, but I.. Mr Snape, would you mind if I sat with you for ten minutes, just to gather myself together?"

Severus swallowed. What was he supposed to say? What else could he do than to acquiesce to her request. It certainly wasn't the right thing to do in his mind, but since when had that been ever been a consideration? His life was littered with the remnants of his poor decision making. He gestured for her to enter his room through the open door and as she did so, he cast a glance down the hallway, took a deep breath and followed her in.

He walked over to the wardrobe and gathered his robe, eager to appear a little more decent in her company, whilst she lit the lamps and sat down in a comfortable chair in the far corner of the lounge area. He found himself tying the belt of the robe in to a secure but absurdly large knot. Of all the ways he imagined Granger entering his bedroom, this most certainly was not one of the scenarios he had considered.

"Who was that idiot?" Severus asked, his curiosity getting the better of him. He handed her one of his clean handkerchiefs and seated himself next to the desk, purposefully putting distance between them, eager for a modicum of propriety.

"Oh, you didn't recognise him?" she asked, dabbing her eyes.

"Should I have?"Surely she knew he wasn't about to remember every student he ever taught; he had a good memory, but it wasn't quite that good.

"It was Felix; you know, from R and D. He came to the conference with me." She dabbed the corner of her eyes once more, for good measure. "He came with me to your office the day I asked for help with those patents from Greece."

"That dunderhead?" He questioned and suddenly thought it was odd that he hadn't considered that she might be in attendance. He made a mental note to read the delegates list from now on.

She nodded. "We'd been down in the bar having a few drinks, the way you do on the last night, but when I said goodnight and walked up to the rooms he followed me. I tried to firm with him but he kept trying to kiss me and we had a disagreement... well you know the rest."

Severus leant his arm on the desk and tapped his finger slowly as he considered what to say next.

"I feel so humiliated," she cried. "I can't believe I have to go back and work with him when I get home."

"Report him. You can't let the scoundrel get away with it."

"Ugh, I wish It were that simple; everyone already thinks we're having some sort of clandestine office affair. Plus, I can't go around reporting everyone who might just try and kiss me!"

"I don't see why not. It can't be that much of a secret affair if everyone knows about it," he observed dryly. He wondered how often other wizards tried to kiss her and his jealously flared - she seemed to be fobbing it off as an everyday occurrence.

"It was so secret I didn't know about it!"

"I doubt it will make any difference, just make sure you report him tomorrow as soon as you get home."

Granger nodded and smiled weakly before casting a glance at her watch. "Look at the time!" She leaped from the chair and grabbed her bag from the coffee table before turning back to him. "I probably wasn't as gracious as I should have been when you intervened tonight. I was embarrassed and a little shocked, but I am thankful for your help. I want you know that."

Severus stood. "Think nothing of it; as long as you are none the worse for the experience?"

"No, as I said, I am fine... I've certainly faced worse than Felix Windham, I'm just a little out of practice I guess," she joked and walked towards the door. "It's funny now that I think about it.. you've been stepping in and saving me since I was eleven years old. What would I do without you?" She smiled.

There weren't many occasions he was lost for words, but this was definitely one of them. He couldn't possibly respond to a statement like that, anything he said now was bound to sound twee and he was desperately reminded of the lift incident. Instead he stepped past her and opened the door, looking down the hallway in each direction. "It is empty; are you certain you don't want me to walk you to your room?"

She was looking at him curiously. "You won't need to walk very far, I'm in the room opposite. Didn't know?"

"I confess, I did not." There were strange Gods at play he concluded for he was truly being tortured for his folly. And when he thought his soul couldn't be tormented further, she stepped forward and kissed him lightly on the cheek, before stepping across the hall and disappearing into her room.

Severus closed his door and walked swiftly to the mini-bar; he pulled out three miniature bottles of firewhiskey, reached for a glass and poured them all in at once. He then moved to sit at the end of the bed and replayed the whole incident in his mind several times over, accompanied by Ogden's finest.

SS

He'd be lying if admitted to being in anything other than a buoyant mood the following morning, despite having had very little sleep. Severus had spent much of the night thinking of her and decided that a tentative friendship might be the best course of action. Perhaps he would be able to use the time to decide if he was willing to risk all.

As he packed away his belongings and prepared to check out of his room he listened out for the sound of Granger's door; he hadn't seen her at breakfast, but wondered if, like him, she was due to take the midday portkey back to London. Alas, by the time he was ready to leave she was no where to be seen and he could only conclude that she'd left early and he had missed her departure. He checked out of his room and made his way out to the back of the hotel to an alleyway, where a few of the other delegates were also gathered. No Granger here either and, he noted, no Mr Windham. Severus decided he would compose a quick note when he got home to ensure she had arrived home safely, concluding that it was only gentlemanly.

By the time he had stopped back at the office and chastised Watkins for losing his Fotherington report, it was almost six in the evening. He swept through the Ministry, back to his house where the _Daily Phophet's _delivery owl was waiting for him, along with another owl he hadn't seen until now. He fed a titbit to both creatures and gathered their wares, before toeing off his boots and taking a seat in his lounge chair.

What Severus saw when he unrolled the newspaper made his blood run cold.


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N: I thank JKR for allowing us to play with her characters. As ever I make no money from this endeavour. _

_No beta so please hop lightly over my mistakes :)_

SS

_**From the grave to the cradle**_

_The Prophet brings you a sensational and exclusive story this evening as we reveal notorious ex-Death Eater tuned spy Severus Snape is having an affair with none other than heroine, and his former student, Hermione Granger. _

_Our source has been able to confirm that Mr Snape and Miss Granger were visiting Paris on a romantic getaway, under the guise of attending a conference - in Ministry time, no less. We can confirm that Miss Granger was seen leaving Mr Snape's hotel room in the early hours of this morning._

_Readers will remember that Mr Snape had been obsessed with Lily Potter, mother of 'The Chosen One', since childhood, an obsession which continued after her death. It is well documented that Mr Snape attributed his war efforts to his love for Mrs Potter._

_It isn't clear how long the pair have been entangled, or how serious they consider their relationship, but stick with us and we'll bring you the latest as soon as we have it._

He wasn't sure what angered him more: the use of Lily's married name or Granger's visit to his hotel room being inaccurately trust into the public domain. Severus threw the newspaper on the table and grabbed the letter; recognising immediately that it was from Granger, he quickly broke the wax seal. She had written to inform him of the story in the newspaper, apologised profusely for the press intrusion and explained that Windham had probably gone to the press as revenge. Severus was inclined to agree. Furthermore, she implored him not to react and assured him that she would ensure Windham didn't try and cause further problems.

Granger had asked him not to retaliate and he would try and respect her wishes, despite the fact that doing so would go against his very nature. Why was this happening to him? Hadn't he done his time? Couldn't he be allowed to live his life quietly, was that too much to ask? He wanted nothing more than to track down that imbecile, Windham, and demonstrate using a variety of hexes, that the boy had made a severe error in judgement.

His murderous trail of thought was interrupted by a series of taps at his kitchen window; he stood and walked to the kitchen, before peering through the murky glass pane into his tiny back garden. He saw at least ten owls of various sizes awaiting his attention. "Merlin's sake," he muttered under his breath, before opening the back door abruptly. "What _is_ going on here?"

Severus gathered his deliveries, slammed his back door and stormed back in to the living room to sit in his chair, with nary a titbit for the birds' efforts. He quickly sifted through the letters seeking to recognise the handwriting on the envelopes. He had learned long ago to be cautious when taking delivery of post from unknown persons.

The first sender he recognised was Minerva, if only because it had been sent in an envelope decorated with a Hogwarts. With a deft flick of his letter opener he pulled the letter out and read swiftly. She was concerned for him apparently: 'knowing how you value your privacy', she had written. The second letter he opened was from Lucius, enquiring as to whether the story was true and congratulating him on his conquest, if indeed it were so. Severus growled and continued to open the remaining letters, which were harmless and mostly from nosey acquaintances, save one from Septima Vector which simply read: 'I told you so'.

SS

The following morning, once he had had time to gather his thoughts and calm his temper, he replied to Miss Granger's letter. He, in turn, apologised for any negative repercussions that the story may be bringing her and agreed that they both carry on as best as they were able under the circumstances. To himself, Severus thanked Merlin that he had his own space and was able to lock his office door.

Late afternoon found Severus sitting behind his desk feeling very much as he had done at the end of the war, having returned into wizarding society. Then as now, he knew that if had allowed himself to feel the humiliation he held inside, he'd never leave his house again. The day had been tolerable; although, Lucilla had thought it was all very amusing and declared that, "no publicity is bad publicity." She obviously had a very short memory, he concluded. Sweeping through the Ministry building at the end of the day he was greeted with stares, but he was able to ignore them; enquiring looks were something he had grown very used to over the years.

As he returned home he felt rather miserable but Severus was determined to carry on. He'd given too much of himself over the years; he'd survived terrible wounds from that blasted snake and after all he had been through in his pitiful life he'd be damned if he was going to allow a wretched newspaper article to affect him. The worst of it all, he thought, was that he didn't have even Granger to show for it; at least if they had been having some sort of illicit fling, he'd be enjoying himself.

He reluctantly retrieved the latest edition of the Prophet from the delivery owl and made his way in to the house as usual. It was with a mixture of fear and dread that he sat down and unfurled the newspaper.

_**Affair confirmed!**_

_After yesterday's revelation of the Granger and Snape affair we can reveal exclusively that the duo have been secretly together for at least several months. Two separate sources have approached our newspaper with confirmation of the couple's relationship and it appears that this latest excursion to the romantic city of Paris was not their first. Our source at the Ministry is able to confirm that the couple had travelled to Paris together just a few weeks previously. _

_It also been brought to the attention of this newspaper that the former Hogwarts professor has been quite the lothario of late and may be seeking to cast aside his somewhat reclusive reputation. Mr Snape as also been involved with a second witch, who has requested to remain anonymous."He led me to believe we were in an exclusive relationship," she revealed._

_Readers will remember Miss Granger's heartbreak at the breakdown of her relationship with Auror, Ronald Weasley. Many had been expecting the childhood sweethearts to marry before the announcement of their separation. Rumour has it that Mr Weasley had been due to renew his interest in Miss Granger, before news of her relationship with Mr Snape surfaced._

_It isn't clear whether Hermione Granger is going to be a permanent fixture or just a passing fancy in the former professor's life. Perhaps Severus Snape has decided it is a case of better late than never?_

_Have you also been jilted by Severus Snape? We'd like to hear from you!_

He closed his eyes; breathing in deeply through his nose, in an effort to find some semblance of inner calm. He was beyond angry, in fact there were no words to describe his fury. How dare that trumped up witch, Antonia Mosset, do this to him! _How dare she! _They hadn't shared anything more than a few polite meals, conversation a quick peck on the cheek. He wanted to confront her, to tell her that Granger was ten times the witch she could ever hope to be, but most of all, he wanted to hex her to within an inch of her life. Azkaban be damned.

Severus threw the newspaper into the unlit fireplace and cast a quick fire-making charm; watching the sides of the paper slowly curl, change to black and then turn to ash before falling into grate. Childishly, he imagined the paper was Antonia's head, but that thought offered only fleeting satisfaction.

Without warning he heard two firm knocks at his front door; he got up and threw the door open, wand raised. Severus was greeted with the sight of Lucius Malfoy holding up his copy of the Prophet, sporting a villainous smile."Severus, you dog; you have been busy haven't you? It's little wonder you didn't reply to my letter yesterday."

"Get in Lucius before I change my mind." Severus snapped. He cast a glance down the road, checking for undesirables, before stepping back and ushering his friend into his home.

"Standing in this room, I dare to suggest you and Miss Granger were made for each other." Lucius was stood in the middle of the living room, eyeing the many, fully laden bookshelves. "May I sit?" he asked, gesturing to the chair. "Severus, you appear quite flustered, I'm not interrupting anything am I?"

Severus remained silent but raised a questioning eyebrow at his suggestive tone. He should have known Lucius would pay a visit to investigate the rumours for himself. He always was a gossip of the highest order.

"I'll take that glare as a yes and then a no," Lucius chuckled. Not waiting for a retort to his earlier question he seated himself in Severus' chair by the now crackling fire.

"May I offer you a drink?" Severus asked, though it was more for his own selfish benefit than out of any notion of hospitality. He wasn't about to have this conversation without a drink.

"A drink? I didn't come over here for a drink my friend. I want to know what is going on between you and the delicious and delectable Hermione Granger."

Severus sighed. "Nothing is '_going on'_, as you put it." He moved to the drinks cabinet in the corner of the room and poured two generous glasses of sherry, before handing one to Lucius. "My life is as it has always been."

"Oh come now," began Lucius mischievously, "there's no wand without a wizard, as they say. Yesterday it said here that she was seen leaving your hotel room, do you deny it?" He raised the paper and tapped at the front page with his index finger.

"I..." Severus paused and sipped his sherry."No, I do not deny it, but it was not what you imagine."

"Oh, please Severus," urged Lucius. "Please do not disappoint me."

Severus, despite his irritation, remained calm; moving to sit on his dingy threadbare sofa, opposite his aristocratic friend. He sat in the corner and crossed his legs, slowly, right over left. "I was attending a conference in Paris and as Fortuna would have it, so was Miss Granger - her room being opposite my own. A fact, I might add, of which I was blissfully unaware of until the early hours one morning when my sleep was disturbed by an argument outside of my bedroom door. I got up and had intervened before I realised that Granger was even there; she was upset and asked to sit with me, in my room, for just a few minutes to gather her thoughts." He took another sip of sherry, feeling quite satisfied to have set at least one person straight. "And _that_ is the sum total of our involvement."

"Miss Granger asked for admittance to your hotel room and nothing happened? Well, that's disappointingly pedestrian. I had a wager of fifty gallons with Narcissa which said you bedded the girl."

"Thank Merlin one of you hasn't taken leave of your senses! What sort of man do you take me for Lucius?" His anger was beginning to raise to the fore again and he raised his voice. "The girl was distressed."

Lucius appeared to sulk and silently sipped his sherry.

"She was in my room for not more than a few minutes, I'm sorry to disappoint you." Severus added.

Lucius coughed suddenly and laughed. "Just a few minutes? It sounds to me as if she is the one who's disappointed."

Severus frowned. "This isn't a laughing matter," he snapped. The _Prophet_ is telling the world that I am seducing my way through the witches of Britain.

"Don't be so melodramatic, my friend. There are many more than two witches on this island and I haven't so much as seen you with one for a good few years now. You're practically living as a monk."

It was true to say that witches hanging from his arm were few and far between, that's not to say that he hadn't received offers, mind you. He'd even indulged himself with a few short term dalliances in years past, but they had all felt hollow, as if he were just going through the motions.

"That Collington witch was all over you and you brushed her off as if she was no more than a crumb on your table." He watched Lucius cast another glance around the room. "Look at yourself Severus, look at this house," he implored, "you can't continue like this."

Severus shifted his gaze, noting the drab flock wallpaper which had father had insisted on hanging the muggle way, despite his mother's offer to help, which in turn meant the pattern didn't line up correctly. It had seen better days he agreed, but the bookshelves covered most of the walls; there was no need to change it. "Her name was Collingbourne, he corrected. "And there is nothing wrong with this house. I am content with this house. This house is the least of my worries at the present time."

Lucius sighed dramatically. "That's not exactly what I meant; this house and the deplorable wallpaper are but a symptom."

"Of what exactly?" Severus asked, looking into his empty glass.

"Of complacency," he answered smugly. "You've fallen into an awful routine which consists of daily monotony and bad sherry." Lucius held his glass aloft before discarding it on the table.

"Don't confuse contentment for complacency" Severus scowled. "And, I'll have you know this is a fine and sophisticated palo cortado." He got up and refilled his glass.

"If you're so content with your lot in life then what were you doing with that Ministry witch?"

It was a good question; silently he would admit as much. Instead he turned and raised an enquiring eyebrow. "Is that really any of your business?"

"Ahh, so you admit to having a little fling?" Lucius sat back with an expression which could only be described as smug. "Not to worry, she'll get over you."

"There is nothing to get over!" he replied angrily. "We met for dinner four times, _four times_! And we always went home separately - before you ask. If you really must know she saw me with Granger a couple of months ago and got the wrong impression. I expect this is her little act of revenge."

"Oh now this is more interesting," Lucius sat forward again. "Do continue, please."

Severus sat back on the sofa and placed his refilled sherry glass on the coffee table. "It isn't interesting in the slightest, unless you're interested in circumnavigating portkey authorisations, which is all that happened. Antonia assumed Granger and I were travelling to Paris together and I assured her that it was a professional excursion."

"And she saw the article yesterday and assumed you had lied to her?" Lucius concluded.

"Very probably," he replied grim-faced. "All I did was sign a form which enabled Granger to book on to a portkey to Paris."

"That was very generous of you."

"I rather thought the same." Severus inclined his head in agreement and collected his sherry from the table. He took a sip. "This is really rather good, I don't understand your objection."

"Too strong a tone of vanilla and too light in body for my tastes."

"Will you be staying for dinner Lucius?" Severus hadn't eaten all day and was really rather famished. "It's only a chicken and mushroom pie; never the less, you are welcome to join me."

Lucius' face held an expression of disgust. "Much too rustic for my tastes. Look, I had better get back to Narcissa and pay my dues., you and your principles have cost me rather a lot of money this evening."

SS

Severus was relieved to see Lucius out the door and was looking forward to a quiet evening when he heard knocking at the back door. Who could possibly be disturbing him now? He marched back through to the kitchen and pulled the door open abruptly. "Don't you dunderheads have anything better to do with your time!" he shouted and raising his wand for the second time that evening.

He was surprised to be greeted by none other than Granger, who recoiled at his aggressive posture.

"Don't!" she shrieked raising her hands up defensively.

"Have you completely taken leave of your senses?" he hissed. What in Merlin's name was she doing at his house?

"I needed to speak to you in private and this was the best place I could think of," she whispered. "Look, I know I am probably intruding, but can I please come in?"

He stood aside and gestured for her to enter. "I hope you cast yourself a disillusionment charm before waltzing over here. I certainly don't need this little visit plastered across the front page of the _Prophet_." Severus swung his arm out and slammed the back door causing her to jump.

"Of course I did, I'm not completely stupid!" she snapped back. "Why do you think I came to the back door? I didn't want to risk of being seen!" Granger whirled around his tiny kitchen and placed her bag on the dining table. "You have no idea of the day I've had."

"No, I couldn't possibly." Severus replied wryly. He gestured for her to enter the lounge, which she did and perched on the edge of his chair, taking up the space which had, until recently, been occupied by Lucius. He suddenly became concious of the ancient wallpaper and his unkempt furnishings. Damn Lucius, _damn him!_

"Have I interrupted something?" She pointed to Lucius' discarded sherry glass, which sat opposite is own now empty glass.

Why did everyone suddenly assume they were interrupting him? As if his home were constantly brimming with guests? "Nothing apart from my supper," he replied, standing in the narrow doorway between the lounge and the kitchen. "Lucius Malfoy paid a visit, but he left shortly before your arrival. You are welcome to join me if you wish, but rest assured I will be eating in five minutes regardless of your decision."

Granger lifted her head slightly and sniffed the air. "Something does smell nice, but I really don't want to intrude on your dinner."

A little late for that Severus thought, but then it occurred to him: Granger was in his house and they were on the verge of having supper together, just the two of them. How typical that all he had to offer was a chicken _bloody_ pie! He cleared his throat. "It's just a chicken and mushroom pie, but there's enough for two. I have some mushy peas as well..."

"Oh I love mushy peas!" Granger clapped her hands together enthusiastically. "Are you sure I won't be intruding, I feel terrible to have imposed myself on you."

"There's more than enough for two." She _was_ imposing, of course, but he was quite willing to allow it.

"Wonderful, I'm starving." Granger got up and swept into the kitchen. "I'll lay the table shall I?" she asked. She must have considered it to be a rhetorical question because without waiting for his reply she proceeded to open all of his kitchen drawers looking for the cutlery, which being a private person, irked him slightly. Having found her quarry she laid two places at his small dining table and even transfigured a sprig of parsley from his herb box, on the window sill, into a yellow carnation, which she placed in to an old flower vase she had found on top of the fridge. The vase was then given pride of place in the middle of the table. "There, that looks very civilised, doesn't it?" she declared as she smiled in his direction. Another rhetorical question he assumed. All he could do was nod mutely as she whirled around his kitchen like she'd always been there.

Severus swallowed, he felt hot and uncomfortable; he grabbed at his cravat and pulled at it, loosening it slightly. And there it was, as he watched her cutting the pie in to two portions, Severus realised that this was what he wanted: he wanted Granger in his house, in his life, sharing his chicken and mushroom pie, and he never wanted her to leave.


End file.
